Stella Ex Meteorum
by Commander In Chief Contest
Summary: How do you choose the next rising star of the literary world? For the leader of The Twilight Order it all comes down to how a book makes him feel. He'll find that the words have nothing on the woman who wrote them.


**Story Title: Stella Ex Meteorum**

**Summary: How do you choose the next rising star of the literary world? For the leader of The Twilight Order it all comes down to how a book makes him **_**feel**_**. He'll find that the words have nothing on the woman who wrote them.**

**Pairing: Jasper/Bella**

**Rating: T**

**Word count: 5643**

**Disclaimer: All things Twilight belong solely to Stephenie Meyer. No copyright infringement is intended.**

Jasper Whitlock sat in his cushy home office, musing over seven different file folders. Within each manila jacket was a dossier of each potential member including detailed information of their known life, writing careers, sales stats, and a synopsis of each of their written works. All of this data gave him an adequate insight to the potential of each author. These remaining seven were the result of many meetings.

Each founding member of the Twilight Order, outside of its three officers, nominated five authors they thought would be a big success, as well as a major contributor to the literary field if they were put in the national or world spotlight. During each conference call one nominator presented their authors in detail. Each author was picked apart by the rest of the members and debated until out of the five only one remained. After seven weeks, the field narrowed from one hundred to only twenty. Four and a half weeks later and the field was narrowed to the top seven out of one hundred.

Jasper thought of his ring of associates. Many ran publishing houses of different genres or were high up in the Big Six but there were also critics, reporters, as well as major editors and book bloggers. They had discovered through their network that they had the ability to elevate writers' careers. The first time, they thought it a fluke, but repeating the experiment twice more had shown them their potential.

Their first meeting together had been at a Turkish restaurant in Chicago during the AWP Conference in 2004. It had been Edward's suggestion they meet up for dinner and also his suggestion to come back to his home afterward. Dinner had been an experiment as to how they got along as a group. Coffee and dessert in the large basement he used as an entertaining area was the stage where he pitched the idea of the Society. It was a moment that Jasper was certain he'd never forget and if he closed his eyes, he could replay the scene with clarity.

******March 25th, 2004; Chicago, Illinois******

Edward, normally so neat and formal, had unbuttoned the top few buttons of his crisp white dress shirt and rolled the sleeves up to his elbows, a relaxed display he'd shown to few others. Being in his own domicile, around people he'd known for many years allowed him to drop his well-constructed walls a notch or two. After making sure his guests were settled and warming back up from their frigid trek to his home, he served them dessert and coffee. As everyone tucked into their sweets, he moved behind his leather armchair and gripped the back, wasting no time to begin his speech.

"I want to thank you all for not only agreeing to my invitation to dinner but especially for coming back here with me afterward. I have to admit, I invited all of you here tonight for a specific purpose instead of purely for the sake of socialization... Throughout the years we have formed a loose association within the industry, sharing with each other talented authors and untapped potential. In the last three years, however, we seem to have stumbled over the formula needed on our end to take someone from a wayward meteor to a shooting star. I see no reason that we should stop now. Lives have been forever changed since we took the initiative. Not only the writers but millions of readers as well. We all know the industry doesn't give any sort of fairness beyond what they themselves think will sell. The literary world is changing, but they aren't keeping up with the trends. It's a mistake we can take advantage of. The connections we have, the people we know in the underground, in the fanfiction communities, and in the Indie realm because they weren't given a real shot but refused to give up. The people who refer authors and works to us, they're integral but we can never let them know who we really are beyond the screen name. It's the only way we can keep what blind fairness we're able to. We have the ability to circumvent those that be and bring to greatness those who would normally be passed over. In the digital age, it's easier than ever for us to do so," he paused, glancing around the room to gauge the reactions of his compatriots.

"What are you suggesting Edward? That we start some underground movement?" Garrett, a well-known blogger and promoter asked. It was no secret that Garrett disdained the traditional publishing industry with those at the top in control.

"A secret society. They're most often found in colleges anymore but there are also groups like The Freemasons, The Evening Star, and the more modern Cicada 3301. There's nothing stopping us from forming our own. We have aims, goals, and purpose. We can work everything else out," he stated confidently.

"What do you propose we call ourselves?" This time, the question came from Rosalie, who was well known in the realm of young adult and children's books.

"The Twilight Order," he said, to many strange looks. He hurriedly continued, "Think about it, when is it that most of us sit down to relax, read for enjoyment, and cavort around online? It's the safest time of day for us in the sense of being able to do and read and be just another screen name. The time of day we find our future shooting stars. So, who's with me?"

Garrett was the first to stand and declare his allegiance. The idea of circumventing Aro, Caius, and Marcus after they'd ruined their bright futures had the Romanian brothers eagerly agreeing as well. The others weren't far behind.

The rest of the night had been spent working out the finer details and taking volunteers for the role of President, Vice-President, and Scribe Secretary.

Once finished, Edward raised his cup of coffee to them, now spiked with whiskey, and said "Devium ad dirigentes stella ex meteorum." To which they returned before departing for the night.

For ten years, Edward had acted as the leader before taking a step back and into the role of Founder. It had been Edward that had nominated Jasper to move up from Vice President to President. The confirmation vote had been unanimous.

They had evolved some over the years, adding a few online events and fundraisers for writing programs but remaining firmly anonymous. The biggest addition had been the website they had developed, a very comprehensive writer's help site that covered pretty much anything from basic grammar to plot development to how to self-publish. It also proved to be a good front for their activities.

Jasper opened his eyes, pulling himself from his recollections and half dream state as he rubbed his inscribed leather wristband absentmindedly. He stood a novel from each author behind their file as he began dissecting each one, dashing down tally marks in their appropriate columns. In the end, he had two left that had scored equally. He'd read other books by the seven finalists as soon as each was nominated but this was the method of a final tiebreaker, reading a second or sequel.

He took the novels to his favorite reading chair, deposited them on the end table, and went to bed. He needed a clear mind to do the process justice.

On Saturday he read a sequel by Bella M. Swan and on Sunday he read the most recent novel from Shelly Cope. He spent the respective days reflecting on the craftsmanship of the storytelling. This sort of tiebreaker was about more than tally marks on yellow notebook paper. It was about what it invoked in him when he read it. Did it tear at his heart or punch him in the gut? Was it hard for him to put down? Did it make him fidget in anticipation or shift in his seat with the richness of the eroticism? It was all in how he was made to feel both during the read and afterward.

Come Monday after giving each book equal time and thought, he made his decision. Promptly at twilight on Monday evening, he made the conference call between the founders to announce the winner.

"First of all, I would like to thank all of you for the effort you all put in throughout the process of nominating, presenting, and debating each author's merits during the selection season. I heard this year's process was a lively one to say the least," He chuckled, he'd heard all about the disagreements Rose had gotten into with most everyone at some point or another.

"My selection for this season is Bella M. Swan, author of the ongoing The Way Home Series. The books I read had many qualities to them that made the series non-exclusive to any one genre. Rather, it's got something for most readers, which presents itself for mass appeal. She has a fairly regular release schedule, consistently produces quality content, she already seems to understand the importance of a social media presence and marketing herself as best she can. She has many other literary qualities and skills that I could go on for quite a long time on but I'll spare you and recommend that you see for yourself if you haven't already. Rose, since she was your nominee, it is your responsibility to contact her for acceptance. If she does, let us know immediately so we can begin induction planning," he instructed.

"You won't have to wait long," she stated confidently.

He had no doubt. He could only wonder if Rosalie had prepped her in any way or if it was just her nature of not taking no for an answer that made her so confident. Whatever it was, he wasn't going to ask. Whatever it was, she was obviously quite pleased that all the effort she'd put forth to get Bella's work in front of him had paid off.

Two hours later, he got word back of her acceptance. She didn't know everything, of course, Rose had reassured him of that but he wasn't concerned. Even if she was hesitant, he wasn't without his wiles either. Rosalie may be stubborn but he'd been told often that he was charismatic to a dangerous extent.

He left contacting the Scribe Secretary, Siobhan, to Rose. She would work out the details and make all of their reservations except for the place of the ceremony. A few texts to Rose later and many notes, he readied for bed.

It took an hour of squirming around in the dark for him to realize what his problem was. He didn't know what it was about this particular new member but he felt excited again. He could just tell that she would bring a breath of fresh air to something that was threatening to become monotonous after fifteen years.

Being in and helping lead the Order had been extremely rewarding, not to mention thrilling to be the influence behind the rise of many amazing authors. The formula always changed yet stayed the same as technology and social media advanced, forcing them to not only be able to influence the market more efficiently as a group but also allowing them to enjoy the effects that also spilled over into their personal careers. Ultimately, it helped in setting them apart from their competitors.

Thoughts slowed as sleep finally crept over him, stealing him from the perusal of his memories.

Whereas he had previously wished time to speed up, he was now three weeks later begging it to slow back down so he could be sure he had everything in order for the ceremony. He had received the final attendance tally, sent out strict instructions, and gathered everything he needed. He couldn't help but think he was forgetting something, no matter how many times he checked the contents of his bags. The night before his flight he finally gave up. Whatever he was forgetting, he would just have to do without.

The thought plagued him still, reminiscent of a hovering mosquito he never managed to swat, all through breakfast, the airport, and the boarding of the plane. It wasn't until they were over Wyoming that he realized what had never made it on to his list to begin with. He knew for certain that he didn't have Bella's ring with him. Each member of the Twilight Order had a wearable reminder of their membership. The founding members had selected their own, but the leader had always chosen the gift for newcomers much as he had chosen the person.

Some were like his, a simple leather cuff with their motto engraved on the inside, the letters caressing his skin every time it pressed against him. Some people wore meteorite rings or lockets. Some simply had their motto inscribed in something somewhere would it fit. A certain redneck cowboy from Texas, now editor of the New York Times had his on the inside of a big silver belt buckle that he wore religiously. The idea never failed to make Jasper snort in amusement. You may be able to take the redneck out of Texas, but you'd never take Texas out of the redneck. Even if he did wear designer slacks more often than his Wranglers anymore.

He sighed and twisted the ring on his little finger that signified him as the leader. If it came down to it, he'd give her his ring until he could replace it with her own. There was no way he was going to ruin her induction ceremony because of his forgetful ass. Once he'd settled on that course of action he was able to relax for the rest of the flight.

After getting off the plane, he found that he was the last of the group to arrive. Fifty other members had been able to make the trek to Washington State to welcome their new sister into their ranks. Jasper discreetly made his rounds, thanking each member for coming as they waited on the chartered bus to arrive that would take them to Port Angeles. There they would pick up cars and SUVs and descend upon Forks.

After boarding, he quietly watched the members from his seat in the back next to Peter, his Vice President. It was meetups like these, he thought, that really kept things alive. Nothing like a family vacation to revive your love in what you'd invested yourself in with the people you'd bonded with along the way.

"You ain't been thinking of retiring as of late, have you?" Peter asked lowly, interrupting his thoughts.

He has his mouth already opened to lie when he met his friend's eyes. Peter's familiar steel blue gaze was peering knowingly at him over the tops of his black, rectangular framed glasses.

"It'd crossed my mind a couple of times," he admitted, just as quietly.

"Well, you can just forget that shit. It ain't time yet," Peter informed him before promptly going to back to his scheming.

"One day I'm going to knock the fuck out of your bossy ass," Jasper grumbled, pulling out his phone.

"It ain't the day for that neither," Peter said matter-of-factly.

Jasper could only roll his eyes and read the text Alice had sent him. She had already arranged for the two of them, plus Peter, Emmett, and Rosalie to ride together. He sent back a thank you and pulled out the third book in Bella's series to read on for the rest of the ride. After reading the first two he'd kind of gotten sucked into the story. The truth of the matter of the selection, atop of everything else he'd told the founders, all came down to the emotion it evoked from him. He'd had a hard time putting the second one down. His heart soared with every victory just as every tragedy made him feel like his stomach was made of lead. He'd become so emotionally invested in the characters he didn't know what he'd do once he caught up. He just _had_ to know what was next.

The swap over in Port Angeles followed by dinner had gone quickly and before he knew it they were pulling in to the Olympic Suites Inn, of which they had taken up every single one of its 34 rooms for the weekend. He was sure the clerk was wondering what on earth 51 people were doing in podunk little Forks when all the guests descended at once upon the place.

After he was all checked in and hooked up to the Wi-Fi, he began to relax until a trim little knock beckoned him to the door.

"Didn't you get enough of me on the car ride over?" he asked playfully, stepping aside to invite her in.

She merely grinned knowingly at him and extended her clasped hand, palm side down to him. Confused, he held out his larger one to accept whatever it was. It wasn't until she dropped the ring into his palm, that had been on his mind for weeks, that he found he was able to breathe a true sigh of relief and wrap her up in a tight hug.

"How did you even get this?" he asked, pulling away to examine it.

"You're welcome, by the way," She said, flippantly as she waved off his belated thanks. "The jeweler sent it to me. You forgot to change the address on the order to your own. Mine was apparently still in there from when you'd sent me my new necklace."

She looked guilty about the last part, which he couldn't stand.

"Alice, you didn't ask to be robbed at gunpoint. There's no way I wouldn't replace your membership piece," he soothed.

"I should have seen that coming though!" she huffed, clearly frustrated.

"We're not going to argue about this anymore," he said firmly. They'd had this same debate several times already. "The important part is that you're safe and unharmed. There's nothing you lost that wasn't replaceable," He wrapped her up for another hug before he excused himself for the evening.

After his shower, he sat on his bed admiring the small, white gold ring. The clean-cut meteor was equivalent to the size of a half carat diamond with two small round white opals set on either side of it. He left it next to his alarm clock with his own ring before the sandman took him.

The next morning consisted of their annual meeting and a review of the last year's progress. They also went over what was to come that evening and ensured everything was in order before breaking into groups and playing the part of tourists. Jasper, however, took the day to drive around Forks and examine the area in depth. He always had a curiosity about where a new member lived but Forks was different, like an alien world. He'd read that she had lived in Arizona before and he could see the influence Forks had on her world building. From the dry, bright desert to green and overcast with rain everywhere, all the time. He couldn't imagine the change in extremes. He also took the opportunity to time the drive by her house back to the Inn.

The day went by in flashes and drags of minutes and hours. Before he knew it, he was pocketing her ring and loading the backpack into the SUV. He'd dressed in black from his neatly tucked in dress shirt down to his cowboy boots, despite the fact that it made him look even paler than normal. Vampire, Alice liked to tease him with from time to time, as if she had room to talk.

He'd retraced his route without much thought and parked in front of her house. He felt lucky that they had caught a rare day in Forks that it wasn't supposed to rain for most of the day. If they could make it through the ceremony without the sky opening up, he'd be happy.

The small white house seemed to be missing something out front. Jasper wasn't sure what it was but there was something about the way the old red truck sat parked in the extra spot rather than the primary one in the driveway. As if she were still waiting for someone to get home.

He made his way up the sidewalk but before he could knock; the door opened and the most beautiful woman he'd ever met stood before him. She wore all black like Rose had requested of her, with her hair pinned up and no jewelry. It relieved him that she followed rules very well from the get-go. He hadn't realized he was stuck in gawker mode until a blush that bloomed along her cheeks that made her even more enchanting to him. She shifted uneasily and stated the obvious.

"Can I help you? I'm currently waiting for a friend. She should be here any minute now," she said, building her case to shoo him off.

"You'll see Rose shortly, Miss Swan. My name is Jasper Whitlock. I'm the leader of The Twilight Order and I'm here to pick you up," he said extending a hand.

The relief that washed over her was palpable as she placed her hand in his. When their skin met, it felt as though she'd sent a wave of warmth throughout him. A feeling he could only quantify as the feeling you get to finally sitting down to a nice hot meal and a glass of wine after a long trying day. Of cold nights spent in front of the fire with a book. Lazy Saturday afternoons indulging in your favorite hobby. Of home. It was a profound moment, even if they didn't really understand the extent of it yet.

"It's nice to meet you, Mr. Whitlock. Let me just get my coat and we'll be on our way," she said, slightly breathless.

It was a relief to see that he wasn't the only one affected.

"Call me Jasper," he requested.

She returned with coat and purse in hand, "Only if you call me Bella."

"Well alright then, Bella," he easily agreed, guiding her out to the SUV after she'd locked up. He'd opened her door and saw her settled in before rounding the vehicle. He pulled a length of silk out of his pocket and got back in the driver's seat.

"I need you to close your eyes," he requested.

Despite the connection that had so obviously been made only moments earlier, her eyes swiveled to his with suspicion.

"Why?"

"We do this with all of our members. It's a sign of trust in the fraternity that we can guide you despite being blind sometimes to the path you tread," he explained patiently.

She considered this before asking, "How do I know you're not going to take me off somewhere and kill me as a cult offering? I've never even heard of The Twilight Order before a few weeks ago."

"Bella, as the head of a non-fiction publishing house with a personal interest in true crime, let me just say that if I was going to do that, it would have been easier, tactically, to have subdued you in your house and not on the street in front of your neighbors," he said frankly.

She mulled that over a minute. From the way she gripped her purse, he would put money that there was pepper spray in there.

"Bella, how long have you known Rosalie?" he asked.

"For at least ten years. She read my stuff back when I wrote fanfiction and never really stopped," she said, eyeballing him.

"Do you think she would involve you in any of this if there was even the slightest chance something bad would happen to you?" he implored earnestly.

He watched her biting that bottom lip while weighing the pros and cons while before sighing. He'd been tempted to pull it from between her teeth before she drew blood.

"Alright, just don't make me regret this," she acquiesced.

"You won't, I promise," He said as he quickly applied the blindfold just snuggly enough to stay in place.

She didn't ask where they were going as he headed to the Hoh National Forest, figuring it would factor into that whole trust thing talked about earlier. He, in turn, said nothing to her about putting her purse down, figuring it would make her ill at ease. She was showing tremendous courage in trusting him this much, so he saw no harm in letting her have her bit of insurance. She would need it for the upcoming adventure she was about to partake of outside of the realm she wrote.

"Did Rosalie tell you about what your duties would be?" he asked, hoping to break the tension in the car.

Even in the few minutes he'd known her he could associate similarities between the author and the tales she wove. She exuded emotion so strongly. The undercurrent of excitement at the door, the tension when unknowingly faced with her first trial, determination when the decision was made. He could have been blind and still would have been affected by her. Had that been the case, however, he would have missed out on being dumbstruck by her beauty.

"Yes, she said that I was to help people that were selected in the future seasons and to subtly promote them through social media shares and things like the occasional book review. She also said something about meeting up once a year but I attend many of the same conventions she does, so she said that part would be easy," she said, relaxing gradually in her seat.

In comparison to Houston, Forks was miniscule but Jasper found himself enjoying the drive with her in his passenger seat. Especially at the few red lights or stop signs when he could observe and admire her openly.

"Yes, that's correct. We often use the AWP convention for our annual meetup purely because so many of us attend it in the first place. It lets us be inconspicuous, hidden amongst the massive number of attendees. As to helping others, when you've made the leap into the spotlight yourself you'll have a lot of influence. Just a few small nudges here and there will go an awful long way in their ascent. Some people do better with private encouragement from their fellow selected peers rather than from the Founders, so you may be needed to step in that role from time to time," he affirmed, seeing her nod in his peripheral vision.

He felt, rather than saw her arm lying on the console next to his just as he felt the muscles in her arm moving as she nervously tapped her fingers along. A glance showed him not so much agitation so much as a state of perplexion.

"You look troubled," he said.

"I just don't understand why I was picked is all. Rose told me that the field was… extensive," she said, brows puckering.

His fingers longed to smooth the soft skin back out. He contented himself with the underlying warmth that had reignited from their arms touching on the console.

"You're beyond talented, for one. It's not often that I read something that compels me the way your stories do. Two, you don't have to be coached on anything currently. We'll groom you for interviews, book signings, and public appearances but you get the social media aspect, the marketing, engaging readers and the importance of content consistency. You wouldn't believe the number of people we either have to get a manager for or just flat out train from scratch. You were meant for greatness," he said gently.

He saw her shaking her head slowly, muttering "But I'm just plain, boring, mousy Bella."

The comment got under his skin. It was the sort of comment that was a compilation of things that had been said to her in an attempt to knock her down. It was highly likely that it was from someone she knew personally. Internet commentary typically didn't have this effect.

"It's obvious you don't see yourself clearly. You will, in time. I promise," he said.

There had been a personal promise made there also. One she had obviously picked up on if the shudder he felt run through her was any indicator.

The forty-five-minute ride went quickly. When they arrived at the Hoh Rain Forest Visitor Center, he parked and retrieved the backpack. He slipped his robes on and gathered hers. After their ride in the car she was more compliant to getting out and letting him put the robe on her, fastening it before he removed the blindfold. He raised the hood to cover her head and opened his arm to her. Stepping in next to him she allowed him to wrap it around her and to lead her along the familiar trail as she inspected her black robe and how it contrasted to his golden one.

"It's twilight," she realized suddenly, taking in the forest. He figured she must have been going over the recent events that brought her to the here and now.

"It's the safest time of day for us," he murmured.

"What do you mean?" she asked just as quietly, as if they were any louder they would disrupt the forest's slumber.

"It's when we can be more than what we present to the world. The end of the day, the freedom of ourselves," he replied.

She recognized the great arched tree that was the entrance to the Hall of Mosses but the figures in golden robes made her heart stutter in nervousness. If it wasn't for the solid, reassuring presence of Jasper at her side, she was sure she would have come to a full halt at the sight of them.

He led her between the two groups, stopping her and turning her to face him underneath the arched tree. He handed her a white candle taper.

"Out of a hundred, it has come down to you," he said, opening a silver lighter and lit her taper. "We light this to illuminate your path. In turn, we ask you to help light the way for those that come after you," he gestured to the groups they'd passed by, each person holding a pillar candle.

She glanced back to him, nerves threatening to take hold. His simple nod and reassuring smile saw her turning to go light each candle in the group, down one side and up the other, returning to him only to find he didn't have a candle. When he held his hand out, she handed hers over to him.

"There will be times during your upcoming journey we will guide you, but you will have to trust us," he extended his other hand to her, holding the light away from her so that she couldn't see the trail as well as he could.

She took his hand, more confidently this time, and off they went. Despite the initial confidence, she held on tightly, taking refuge in that same warmth that he'd been marveling over. He guided her along the path, not letting her stumble once, until they came upon two large logs on each side of the path. She could tell by the light dancing across the trees surrounding them that the group had split into two again and had situated themselves, half seated and half standing. Jasper pulled her around to face him again, blowing out his candle and relying on the group's to keep them illuminated.

"You have demonstrated your willingness to trust us to guide you and keep you from falling, even when you cannot see the path. Trust is vital in any sort of relationship, and especially so within this family. Bella Swan, do you so swear to keep the Twilight Order a secret, to not share with anyone else anything of the group itself, our secrets and our membership?" he asked.

"I do so swear," she promised, staring in his eyes.

"Do you so swear to uphold the duties of your membership, to help uphold our tenants, and to help us evolve to continue our mission?" he came a step closer.

"I do so swear," she answered, unable to break his gaze.

"Do you swear to lend your aid to new family members, to those who show doubt, or need representation? To uplift those you believe would change the world with their words?" he asked quietly, taking her left hand in his.

"I do so swear," she whispered.

He slid the ring onto the first finger of her left hand before shocking her by rapidly unzipping her robes. He turned them to where she was facing the other members.

She gasped as he whipped the robes off of her, "Devium ad dirigentes" he called.

"Stella ex meteroum," they replied in unison. As they did, he slid the robes back up her arms and lifted the hood back upon her head.

As he zipped her back up, she realized that she now matched them in shining gold.

"Welcome to the family," he whispered, gathering her to him and kissing her forehead to enthusiastic applause. He knew she would be his magnum opus.

The warmth she'd so far experienced at his touch had nothing on what he now shrouded her in and as she looked into his brown eyes, so much like her own, everything suddenly shifted into something much more real. She had a family again, after having lost her own. She had support and people in her corner, despite the fact that so many before had fallen by the wayside. Last but not least, as she relished his embrace, she finally felt like she'd found home.

******Fin******

devium ad dirigentes stella ex meteorum = from wayward meteor to shooting star

AWP = Association of Writers and Writing Programs


End file.
